GETS ENTIRELY TOO BIG FOR HIS PLACE.
THE disturbance in the Deacon's family when Shorty's note was delivered
by little Sammy Woggles quite came up to that romance-loving youth's
fond anticipations. If he could only hope that his own disappearance
would create a fraction of the sensation he would have run away the next
day. It would be such a glorious retribution on those who subjected him
to the daily tyranny of rising early in the morning, washing his face,
combing his hair, and going to school. For the first time in his life
the boy found himself the center of interest in the family. He knew
something that all the rest were intensely eager to know, and they plied
him with questions until his young brain whirled. He told them all that
he knew, except that which Shorty had enjoined upon him not to tell,
and repeated his story without variation when separately examined by
different members of the family. All his leisure for the next few days
was put in laboriously constructing, on large sheets of foolscap,
the following letter, in which the thumb-marks and blots were more
conspicuous than the "pot-hook" letters:
dEER shoRty:
doNt 4git thAt REblE guN u promist mE.
thAir wAs An oRful time wheN i giv um yorE lEttEr.
missis klEgg shE cride.
mAriAr shE sEd did u EvEr No Ennything so Ridiklus.
si hE sed thAt shorty kood be morE Kinds ov fool in A minnit
thAn Ary uthEr boy hE Ever node, Not bArrin Tompsons colt.
thE deAcon hE wAntid 2 go 2 the tranE & stop u. When hE
found hE kooddEnt do that, hE wAntid 2 tElEgrAf 2 Arrest u &
bring u bAk.
But si hE sEd bEttEr let u run till u got tirEd. Ude fEtch
up sum whAir soon. Then thEy wood sHp a bridlE ovEr yore
hEAd & brink u bAk.
i hAint told mAriA nothin but u hAd bEtEr sEnd thAt gun rite
off.
ile look 4 it EvEry dAy til i git it.
mi pen iz bAd, mi ink iz pAle, send thAt gun & NEVEr f ALE.
YorEs, SAM.
As soon as he saw that he was likely to remain at Headquarters for some
time. Shorty became anxious about that letter from Sammy, and after much
scheming and planning, he at last bethought himself of the expedient
of having the Chief Clerk write an official letter to Sam Elkins, the
postmaster and operator at Bean Blossom Creek Station, directing him to
forward to Headquarters any communications addressed to Corp'l Elliott,
200th Ind. Vols., and keep this matter a military secret.
In spite of his prepossessions against it, Shorty took naturally to
Headquarters duty, as he did to everything else in the army. He even
took a pride in his personal appearance, and appeared every morning as
spick and span as the barber-shop around the corner could make him.
This was because the General saw and approved it, and--because of the
influence Maria had projected into his life. The Deacon's well-ordered
home had been a revelation to him of another world, of which he wanted
to be a part. The gentle quiet and the constant consideration for
others that reigned there smoothed off his rough corners and checked the
rasping of his ready tongue.
"I'm goin' to try to be half-white," he mentally resolved; "at least, as
long's I'm north o' the Ohio River. When I'm back agin at the front, I
kin take a rest from being respectable."
He was alert, prompt, and observant, and before he was himself aware of
it began running things about the ante-rooms to Headquarters. More and
more the General and Chief Clerk kept putting the entire disposal of
certain matters in his hands, and it was not surprising that he acted at
times as if he were the Headquarters himself, and the General and others
merely attaches. Shorty always had that way about him.
"No, you can't see the General today," he would say to a man as to whom
he had heard the General or the Chief Clerk hint was a bore, and wasted
their time. "The General's very busy. The President's layin' down on him
for his advice about a campaign to take Richmond by a new way, and the
General's got to think at the rate of a mile a minute in order to git it
off by telegraph."
[Illustration: DON'T YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO COME TO HEADQUARTERS LIKE
THAT? 156]
"Here," to a couple of soldiers who came up to get their furloughs
extended, "don't you know better than to come to Headquarters looking
as if your clothes had been blowed on to you? How long've you bin in the
army? Hain't you learned yit that you must come to Headquarters in full
dress? Go back and git your shoes blacked, put on collars, button up
your coats, and come up here lookin' like soldiers, not teamsters on the
Tullyhomy mud march."
"No," very decisively, to a big-waisted, dark-bearded man; "you can't git
no permit here to open no shebang in camp or anywheres near. Too many
like you out there now. We're goin' to root 'em all out soon. They're
all sellin' whisky on the sly, and every last one of 'em orter be in
jail."
"Certainly, madam," tenderly to a poor woman who had come to see if she
could learn something of her son, last heard from as sick in hospital
at Chattanooga. "Sit down. Take that chair--no, that one; it's more
comfortable. Give me your son's name and regiment. I'll see if we kin
find out anything about him. No use seein' the General. I'll do jest as
well, and 'll tend to it quicker."
"No," to a raw Captain, who strolled in, smoking a cheap cheroot. "The
General's not in to an officer who comes in here like as if Headquarters
was a ward caucus. He'll be in to you when you put on your sword and
button up your coat."
It amused and pleased the General to see Shorty take into his hands
the administration of military etiquette; but one day, when he was
accompanying the General on a tour of inspection, and walking stiffly
at the regulation distance behind, a soldier drunk enough to be ugly
lurched past, muttering some sneers about "big shoulder-straps."
Shorty instantly snatched him by the collar and straightened him up.
"Take the position of a soldier," he commanded.
The astonished man tried to obey.
"Throw your chest out," commanded Shorty, punching him in the ribs.
"Little fingers down to the seams of your pants," with a cuff at his
ears. "Put your heels together, and turn out your toes," kicking him
on the shin. "Hold up your head," jabbing him under the chin. "'Now
respectfully salute."
The cowed man clumsily obeyed.
"Now, take that to learn you how to behave after this in the presence of
a General officer," concluded Shorty, giving him a blow in the face that
sent him over.
The General had walked on, apparently without seeing what was going on.
But after they had passed out of the sight of the group which the affair
had gathered, he turned and said to Shorty:
"Corporal, discipline must be enforced in the army, but don't you think
you were a little too summary and condign with that man?"
"Hardly know what you mean by summary and condign. General, But if you
mean warm by summary, I'll say that he didn't git it half hot enough. If
I'd had my strength back I'd a' condigned his head off. But he got his
lesson jest when he needed it, and he'll be condigned sure to behave
decently hereafter."
Just then ex-Lieut.-Col. Billings came by. He was dressed in citizen's
clothes, and he glared at Shorty and the General, but there was
something in the latter's face and carriage which dominated him in spite
of himself, his camp associations asserted themselves, and instinctively
his hand went to his hat in a salute.
This was enough excuse for Shorty. He fell back until the General was
around the corner, out of sight, and then went up to Billings.
"Mister Billings," said he, sternly, "what was the General's orders
about wearin' anything military?"
"Outrageously tyrannical and despotic," answered Billings hotly.
"But jest what you might expect from these Abolition satraps, who're
throttlin' our liberties. A white man's no longer got any rights in
this country that these military upstarts is bound to respect. But I'm
obeyin' the order till I kin git an appeal from it."
"You're a liar. You're not," said Shorty, savagely.
"Why, what in the world have I got on that's military?" asked Billings,
looking himself over.
"You're wearin' a military saloot, which you have no business to. You've
got no right to show that you ever was in the army, or so much as seen
a regiment. You salooted the General jest now. Don't you ever let me see
you do it to him agin, or to no other officer. You musn't do nothin' but
take off your hat and bow. You hear me?"
Shorty was rubbing it in on his old tormentor in hopes to provoke him
to a fight. But the cowed man was too fearful of publicity just then.
He did not know what might be held in reserve to spring upon him. He
shambled away, muttering:
"O, go on! Grind down upon me. You'll be wantin' to send me to a Lincoln
bastile next. But a day will come when white men'll have their rights
agin."
Unfortunately for Shorty, however, he was having things too much his
own way. There were complaints that he was acting as if he owned
Headquarters.
Even the General noticed it, and would occasionally say in tones of
gentle remonstrance:
"See here, Corporal, you are carrying too big a load. Leave something
for the rest of us to do. We are getting bigger pay than you are, and
should have a chance to earn our money."
But Shorty would not take the hint. With his rapidly-returning strength
there had come what Si termed "one of his bull-headed spells,"
which inevitably led to a cataclysm, unless it could be worked off
legitimately, as it usually was at the front by a toilsome march, a
tour of hard fatigue duty, or a battle or skirmish. But the routine of
Headquarters duties left him too much chance to get "fat and sassy."
One day the General and his staff had to go over to Louisville to attend
some great military function, and Shorty was left alone in charge of
Headquarters. There was nothing for him to do but hold a chair down, and
keep anybody from carrying off the Headquarters. This was a dangerous
condition, in his frame of mind. He began meditating how he could put
in the idle hours until the General should return in the evening. He
thought of hunting up Billngs, and giving him that promised thrashing,
but his recent experience did not promise hopefully that he could nag
that worthy into a fight that would be sufficiently interesting.
"I'd probably hit him a welt and he'd go off bawlin' like a calf," he
communed with himself. "No; Billings is too tame, now, until he finds
out whether we've got anything on him to send him to the penitentiary,
where he orter go."
Looking across the street he noticed Eph Click, whom he had known as a
camp-follower down in Tennessee, and was now running a "place" in the
unsavory part of the town. Shorty had the poorest opinion of Eph, but
the latter was a cunning rascal, who kept on the windy side of the
law, and had so far managed to escape the active notice of the
Provost-Marshal. He was now accompanied by a couple of men in brand-new
uniforms, so fresh that they still had the folds of the Quartermaster's
boxes.
"There goes that unhung rascal, Eph Glick," he said to himself, "that
orter be wearin' a striped suit, and breakin' stone in the penitentiary.
He's runnin' a reg'lar dead-fall down the street, there, and he's got a
couple o' green recruits in tow, steerin' them to where he kin rob 'em
of their pay and bounty. They won't have a cent left in two hours. I've
bin achin' to bust him up for a long time, but I've never bin able to
git the p'ints on him that'd satisfy the General or the Provo. I'll jest
go down and clean out his shebang and run him out o' town, and finish
the job up while the General and the Provo's over in Louisville. It'll
all be cleaned up before they git back, and they needn't know a word of
it. Eph's got no friends around here to complain. He's a yaller hound,
that nobody cares what's done to him. It'll be good riddance o' bad
rubbish."
He stalked out of the Headquarters, and beckoned imperiously to a squad
that he saw coming down the street under the command of a Sergeant.
Seeing him come out of Headquarters there was no question of his right
to order, and the Sergeant and squad followed.
They arrived in front of Eph's place about the same time he did.
"Take that man," said Shorty, pointing to Eph, "and put him aboard the
next train that goes out. Think yourself lucky, sir, that you git off so
easily. If you ever show your face back here agin you'll be put at hard
labor on the fortifications for the rest o' your natural life. Hustle
him off to the depot, a couple of you, and see that he goes off when the
train does. The rest o' you bring out all the liquor in that place, and
pour it into the gutter. Sergeant, see that nobody's allowed to drink or
carry any away."
Nothing more was needed for the crowd that had followed up the squad,
anticipating a raid. Bottles, demijohns and kegs were smashed, the
cigars and tobacco snatched up, and the place thoroughly wrecked in a
few minutes.
Shorty contemplated the ruin from across the street, and strolled back
to Headquarters, serenely conscious of having put in a part of the day
to good advantage.
That evening the Provost-Marshal came into Headquarters, and said:
"I'm sorry, General, that you felt that Click place so bad that you
were compelled to take personal action. I have known for some time that
something ought to be done, but I've been trying to collect evidence
that would hold Glick on a criminal charge, so that I could turn him
over to the civil authorities."
"I do not understand what you mean, Colonel," answered the General.
"I mean that Glick place that was raided by your orders today."
"I gave no orders to raid any place. I have left all those matters in
your hands, Colonel, with entire confidence that you would do the right
thing."
"Why, one of my Sergeants reported that a Corporal came from your
Headquarters, and directed the raid to be made."
"A Corporal from my Headquarters?" repeated the General, beginning to
understand. "That's another development of that irrepressible Shorty."
And he called:
"Corp'l Elliott."
"Yes, sir," responded Shorty, appearing at the door and saluting.
"Did you raid the establishment of a person named"
"Eph Glick," supplied the Provost-Marshal.
"Yes, Ephraim Glick. Did you direct it; and, if so, what authority had
you for doing so?"
"Yes, sir," said Shorty promptly. "I done it on my own motion. It was a
little matter that needed tending to, and I didn't think it worth while
to trouble either you or the Provo about it. The feller's bin dead-ripe
for killin' a long time. I hadn't nothin' else to do, so I thought I'd
jest git that job offen my hands, and not to have to think about it any
more."
"Corporal," said the General sternly, "I have not objected to your
running my office, for I probably need all the help in brains and
activity that I can get. But I must draw the line at your assuming the
duties of the Provost-Marshal in addition. He is quite capable of taking
care of his own office. You have too much talent for this narrow sphere.
Gen. Thomas needs you to help him run the army. Tell Wilson to make out
your transportation, so that you can start for your regiment tomorrow.
The Provost-Marshal and I will have to try to run this town without your
help. It will be hard work, I know; but, then, that is what we came into
the service for."
Shorty grumbled to another Orderly as he returned to his place in the
next room:
"There, you see all the thanks you git for bein' a hustler in the way
of doin' your dooty. I done a job for 'em that they should've 'tended to
long ago, and now they sit down on me for it."